


Where Everybody Knows Your Name

by grey2510



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Canon Universe, M/M, POV Outsider, implied dean/cas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:40:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24792505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: Donnie is tending bar when one of his favorite customers shows up. And tonight, Dean has a friend with him.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 24
Kudos: 233
Collections: SPNColdestHits





	Where Everybody Knows Your Name

"Hey, Donnie."

Donnie looks up from wiping down the bar to give Dean a grin. "Hey. Long time. We were getting worried we weren't going to make a profit this month."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean rolls his eyes with a smile and slides onto his usual stool. "Whiskey, double."

"Usual paint thinner or you gonna spring for something halfway decent this time?"

"Last time I said 'surprise me', you gave me that crappy fruity pink drink."

"It wasn't crappy." Donnie gestures around. "And hey, it's Kansas, not Cali—that's the only kind of sex on the beach anyone's gonnna get 'round here. Thought maybe you needed it."

"I do just fine, thanks. Asshole."

But Dean's grinning as Donnie grabs the whiskey and a tumbler and pours out a generous measure. Dean's idly drumming his fingers on the bar in tune to "Ramble On", but then the station switches over to some pop country song and he frowns. He takes a hearty swig of the whiskey when Donnie slides the glass over to him. Donnie leans against the bar, settling in to chat. It's not a particularly busy night and he'd rather stay down this end of the bar—Dean's always good for conversation when he doesn't come in like a stormcloud—than risk the attentions of Sandra and Lynne (who are both probably old enough to be his mother) after the number of G&Ts they've knocked back. He makes a mental note to call them a cab in a few.

"Tough day at the office?" Donnie asks, though they both know Dean's work doesn't involve anything remotely resembling an office. Donnie's never gotten the particulars, but he'd say that anything from organized crime to covert military ops is a solid bet.

"Seen worse, but it wasn't great. 'Least the ribs are all in one piece this time," Dean adds, patting his side.

Last time, Donnie'd been surprised the guy had lasted as long as he did on a barstool, but Dean had waved him off, saying he'd be fine once his buddy, Cas, got back. Actually, come to think of it, that probably puts another tick in the column for 'organized crime'—this Cas is probably some mob doctor.

"Your buddy get you all fixed up?"

"Yeah, real miracle-worker, that guy." Dean chuckles at whatever private joke that is, but Donnie doesn't ask. "He—" Dean cuts off, pawing at his pocket and digging out his phone. He grins at the caller ID. "Speak of the devil."

Donnie gives him a small wave and moves away to let Dean have his phone call, even though the confines of the bar don't allow for much privacy. But Dean doesn't get up and move away, so it can't be a super personal conversation.

"Yeah, Cas, we're fine. All taken care of. No… I'm… No, Sam's there, I'm not. I'm at a bar. Yeah… yeah… I'll text you the address."

"Not drinking alone tonight?" Donnie asks when Dean hangs up, fires off a text, and tosses the phone on the bar top.

"Guess not. Cas is only a few minutes away." There's a pleased smile on Dean's face as he finishes his whiskey.

"'Nother?"

Dean shakes his head. "Nah, I'll switch to beer."

"You got it."

Lager poured, Donnie goes to call Sandra and Lynne a cab, and he gets a few beers for the guys playing pool at the back table. By the time he makes it back, the stool next to Dean has been taken by a dark haired man in a suit and trench coat. Definitely a mob doc. Not that Donnie has any idea what a mob doc looks like, out here in nowhere Kansas. The guy's peering intently at the taps until Dean rolls his eyes.

"C'mon, just order one."

"There are some I haven't tried before," the man says in a surprisingly deep voice. He turns to Donnie. "Which would you recommend?"

"Uh…" This ain't exactly a craft beer emporium, though they occasionally have a couple local brews on tap. Usually it's the standard cheap beers—Bud Lite, El Sol… He gets the sense that Dean's Margiekugel isn't what Cas is after. "I mean, most of 'em you can get anywhere. We got an IPA from a local place that's pretty good. And their cider's been popular."

"The cider sounds interesting. I'll take that."

"The cider?" Dean scoffs, but there's no heat behind it. He shakes his head, fondly amused.

Donnie smirks as he turns to pour the cider. "Well, I'd say your friend clearly has good taste, Campbell, but he hangs out with you, so…" He smiles at Cas. "No offense."

Cas only grins, but it brightens his whole face. "None taken."

"You really don't want a good tip tonight, huh, Donnie," Dean mock threatens.

Donnie crosses his arms. "Oh I'm sorry, if you wanted to pay someone to tell you how great you are, I think you want the place down the street."

Dean and Cas look at each other, clearly sharing an inside joke.

"I think we'll give that one a pass. Cas' never been one for, uh…what'd you call 'em?"

"Dens of iniquity?"

"Yeah, that." He claps Cas on the shoulder. "C'mon, grab that cider and let's play some pool. Donnie, keep the tab open."

"Your wish is my command."

He laughs when Dean flips him off before guiding Cas away by the elbow. After a few hours of pool, beer, cider, and nachos, Dean comes over to settle his tab. He keeps glancing over at Cas, who's by the door, as he waits for the ancient register to print the tab, and there's an easy, giddy expression on his face that Donnie's never seen on him before.

He knows it's a risk, but Donnie takes it, and just hopes he's not about to get punched in the face for it. He wants Dean to come back, not just because he's a good customer, but because he'd like to think they're decent friends by now.

"Guess you were right," he says, nodding in the direction of Cas. "Don't need my help with a pink cocktail. You do just fine."

Dean freezes for a second, studying Donnie, trying to get a read on what exactly he means. Donnie tries to give him his best earnest smile. No teasing, no insult. Seemingly satisfied, Dean's posture relaxes, though his eyes dart around the bar.

"Yeah," he says, smiling softly. He digs out some bills from his wallet and slides it all back to Donnie with a friendly tap on the bar. "Thanks, Donnie. See ya 'round."

"Later. Tell Cas I'll have more of that cider on tap for him."

"'Preciated."

Donnie picks up the money, grateful for the usual generous tip and genuinely happy for Dean. He might not know all the gory details, but from what he's seen, the guy deserves a little good in his life.

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely inspired by "Tubthumping" by Chumbawumba... Never thought I'd say that for a SPN fic. So, not only do we have a reference to Dean getting knocked down and getting back up again (the ribs, and well...everything about his job), but there's also a whiskey drink, and a vodka drink, and a lager drink, and a cider drink.... and "Ramble On" plays, which I'd say for Dean reminds him of the good times (and the best times? It is one of his favorite songs). No Danny boy or next door neighbor, but I think I did alright.
> 
> Written for Coldest Hits:  
> [Here was the prompt and rules](https://spncoldesthits.tumblr.com/post/616843211935219712/june-2020-prompt-one-hit-wonders-posting-dates). Since this was my prompt, I'm not playing to win. Feel free to comment and kudos :)


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